Between the narrow alleys and crowded markets, in the heart of Cairo’s El-Gamaleya district, Ibrahim Hussein, a taxi driver and father of three children, wakes up to a nightmare he had never anticipated. His car, his only source of livelihood, disappeared from in front of his home one morning, beginning a journey of worry and searching that lasted for weeks. He filed a report with the police and waited a long time to no avail, until, a month later, news reached him that it had been found.
With eagerness mixed with fear, Ibrahim rushed to the “vehicle impound lot” in Helwan, the place where the police keep stolen cars until the legal procedures are completed. He hoped to see his vehicle as he had left it, but he stood stunned before a scene he was not prepared for. His car was no longer as he had known it; it was nothing but a corroded metal shell, a mere heap of iron without doors, without windows, smashed as though it had barely survived a battle.
He tried to understand what had happened. The workers told him that the car had reached them in this condition as a result of neglect during the period in which it was found, but Ibrahim was certain: “I used to drive it every day, it worked efficiently, and now it has turned into scrap that is not even fit to be sold as spare parts. My livelihood has been completely destroyed.”
He did not stop at the shock; he tried to turn to the competent authorities, but he ran into a wall of bureaucracy and evasion. The police blame the impound lot’s management, and the latter claims that it received the car in this state, suggesting that the thieves may have ruined it before it was found. But where is the truth? No one wants to bear responsibility.
Amid this absurdity, Ibrahim found himself drowning in debt; he was forced to borrow to support his family, and he could not afford the cost of repairing the car, which exceeded its market value. In a voice carrying despair and anger, he pleads: “We, the owners of stolen cars, are robbed twice: once when our cars are snatched, and again when they come back to us as wreckage that is good for nothing.”
But Ibrahim’s tragedy is not an exception. In several cities, similar stories recur, raising pressing questions about oversight of the “vehicle impound lots” and the extent of their commitment to preserving the property entrusted to them as official custody. From here, we decided to delve further into this thorny file, searching for the truth about what the victims describe as “theft of another kind”.
Car theft does not end inside the “impound lots”
Recently, growing complaints have spread on social media platforms, especially on Facebook, in which their authors speak of thefts their cars were subjected to while being held inside “vehicle impound lots”. Batteries disappear, cassette players are looted, and sometimes the shell is left empty without any contents. These posts, strikingly recurrent, prompted us to ask: are these claims true, or are they merely isolated cases?
We began by analysing the posts appearing in specialised groups on Facebook, and found that the accusations are not limited to a particular area, but are strikingly concentrated in the “Helwan impound lot”, specifically at the entrance to 15 May City. Here we decided to head to the site ourselves.
On our arrival at the “15 May impound lot”, the first thing that caught our attention was the fragility of the walls surrounding the place. Large parts of them were dilapidated or completely demolished, making them easy to climb for anyone who wants to sneak in at night. As we walked around its perimeter, we discovered that the place resembles an open warehouse, where thieves can enter and leave freely, targeting the most valuable parts inside the cars, such as batteries and cassette players, which are easy to carry and sell quickly.
We tried to enter the impound lot, which extends over a vast area estimated at 500 feddans, but we faced the first official barrier: the security official at the gate informed us that entry is permitted only to those holding an official police report proving ownership of a car inside the impound lot. That did not stop us from continuing the investigation; through our conversation with the official, we learned that securing the impound lot relies on about 55 police secretaries, who take daily turns monitoring the impounded cars, as the police stations each send a secretary to follow up on their own custody.
But is this measure sufficient given the fragility of the security situation? What really happens inside these impound lots when the car owners’ eyes are absent? The questions are many, and the doubts are greater.
The owners of confiscated cars never imagined that losing their vehicles would not be the end, but rather the beginning of a complicated journey full of surprises. During our intensive research, we discovered that cars that are not collected after a certain period do not remain neglected, but are sold at public auctions, according to the testimonies of security men inside the impound lot and some of the citizens who frequent it looking for their cars. The bigger surprise? Anyone who holds a commercial register can buy these cars, whether they are usable or completely wrecked.
But how are these auctions run? And who determines the fate of the cars? It was not easy to obtain direct answers, but our conversations with owners of damaged cars revealed practices they described as “illegal”, ranging from neglect that leads to the destruction of cars, to systematic theft of their contents, all the way to suspicions of corruption that turn these impound lots from places that are supposed to protect property into a source of worry and additional losses.
As part of our investigation, we conducted a field survey of the Helwan impound lot, where we noted the absence of any real security at its entrances and exits. We were able to take photographs of vehicles left without protection, without any security officer stopping us. Most surprising of all, some side entrances were open, meaning that anyone is able to enter and leave freely. Despite this, the security men insisted that the impound lot is monitored around the clock through dedicated cameras. Do those cameras actually monitor what happens? Or is their role merely a formality?
Mahmoud Ramadan, one of the victims, did not expect his problem with the traffic police to turn into a nightmare. His car was impounded at the Helwan impound lot because its licence had expired, and after completing the legal procedures and paying the fine, he went to collect it. But he did not find the car he had left behind; he found a vehicle that had been subjected to neglect and looting. He says angrily:
“When I entered the impound lot, I felt I was in a scrapyard. The seats were dirty, as if they had been left out in the open for months. But the biggest disaster was in the boot, where my personal tools had disappeared completely: the hand tools, the spare tyre, and even some small supplies I always kept. But the real shock was when I discovered that the ‘cassette’ sound system I had recently added had vanished entirely.”
When Mahmoud asked the officials about the disappearance of these items, the reply came cold and shocking: “We are not responsible for any theft that may occur inside the impound lot, and it may have happened while the car was being transported or before it reached us. You can file a report, but do not expect anything.”
Mahmoud describes his sense of injustice, saying: “I was punished three times: once with the fine, a second time with the neglect that befell my car, and a third time by its being robbed before the eyes of security. I found no authority to complain to, and nothing was left for me but to leave, carrying my losses on my shoulders.”
“From a car to empty shells!”
Mahmoud’s experience was not unique. Ahmed Hassan, another driver, went through similar suffering. After his car’s licence period ended, it was towed to the impound lot, but he never imagined that he would embark on a complicated journey to recover it.
“I spent two weeks running between the traffic department and the car depots, from the El Rehab area to El Basateen, then to the traffic department I belong to, until I finally reached the impound lot. I thought the hardest part of the matter would be the paperwork, but I was wrong. When I reached the car, I did not recognise it; it was like an empty shell! Everything had been stolen: the battery, the seats, and even some parts of the engine itself.”
Ahmed points out that these thefts cannot take place without internal collusion: “How can all these parts be looted inside a place that is supposed to be protected? It is clear that there is someone who allows these thefts, or at least turns a blind eye to them.”
Investing the impound lots’ space
While complaints of thefts of car contents inside the impound lots are increasing, some of those affected raise a different question: why do these neglected spaces remain a burden on the state instead of being exploited economically?
Ibtisam Raouf, one of those affected, calls for the introduction of an electronic documentation system for cars, so that it becomes easier to track stolen and impounded vehicles, which could reduce the chaos car owners suffer in recovering them. She also proposes simplifying the legal procedures, which in her view have become an additional obstacle that increases the owners’ suffering instead of helping them recover their cars.
As for Tharwat Mansour, one of those who lost their cars inside one of the impound lots, he puts forward the idea of public auctions as a practical solution for making use of uncollected vehicles, but he stresses that the proceeds of these auctions should be allocated to supporting public services in the areas that host these impound lots, instead of going to undisclosed bodies. Tharwat believes that these vast spaces could be turned into service projects such as shopping centres or public parks, instead of remaining neglected hotspots.
But what is the actual size of the problem? According to statements by Major General Yousry El-Roby, a traffic expert, in 2017, there are four main impound lots in Egypt, distributed between Helwan, October, Alexandria and Qalyubia, each of which holds more than 5,000 cars, while other impound lots are spread across the various governorates. The costs resulting from keeping these cars without disposing of them are estimated at about EGP 20 billion, a figure that reveals the scale of the waste borne by the state because of the absence of a clear mechanism for dealing with these vehicles.
Major General Ahmed Hesham, a traffic expert, acknowledges that the spread of neglected and dilapidated cars on Egyptian streets represents a threat to public security, as they cause unjustified traffic congestion and also create a suitable environment for illegal activities, including crimes or even their use in terrorist operations. But the state, as he asserts, is not standing idly by in the face of this problem.
“Traffic campaigns have been intensified to remove neglected cars from the roads in accordance with clear legal procedures”, says Major General Hesham, explaining that the process begins with receiving reports from citizens or the security bodies, then the tow trucks arrive at the vehicle’s location, and the confiscation is announced through loudspeakers to give the owner an opportunity to intervene. If he does not respond, the car is transferred to the impound lot, where it is registered and its owner is notified electronically of where it is being held.
But the question the affected people raise is: does the problem stop at the transfer of cars to the impound lots, or do the violations begin there?
Major General Hesham completely denies what is being said about the theft of car contents inside the impound lots, stressing that the contents of all vehicles are recorded as soon as they enter, and that any tampering with their contents places responsibility directly on the police secretaries and the custody secretaries. “The law is clear, any violations are met with the appropriate legal procedures, and the citizen has the right to file an official complaint if his car is tampered with in any way inside the impound lot.”
In a related context, Major General Medhat Qoraitem, former Assistant Minister of Interior for the Specialised Police Sector, stresses the importance of dealing immediately with violating cars, especially those that do not carry licence plates, describing them as “a clear violation of the traffic law” and explaining that such vehicles may be used in criminal acts, which requires strict measures to seize them and verify their data.
He adds that the procedures begin with referring the driver of the vehicle to the police station to draw up an official report that includes proof of his ownership through legal documents; in the absence of these documents, the vehicle is technically inspected to make sure that the chassis and the engine number match the registered data. As for vehicles with expired licences, the law grants their owners a grace period of 30 days to renew the licence, after which the vehicle is impounded until the legal conditions are met, noting that compulsory insurance extends for 13 months, which gives the owner legal cover during the renewal period.
He explains that seized cars are transferred to the police station, where a report is drawn up that includes a precise description of the vehicle’s condition, then the car is handed over under an official document that includes all the details, with the receiving body bearing responsibility for preserving it. He notes that the holding places are usually under the supervision of the security directorates or police stations and are tightly guarded, to ensure that the impounded vehicles are not tampered with.
He affirms that a new law regulates the handling of abandoned cars: under the recent amendments to Egyptian Traffic Law No. 66 of 1973, the procedures relating to stolen, dilapidated, or lost cars found in the streets have been specified. The competent traffic department, in coordination with the local authorities, removes these vehicles immediately and deposits them in the places designated for that purpose. A report on the incident is drawn up that includes the description of the vehicle and the place and date of seizure, and it is presented to the competent traffic prosecution to take the necessary measures. The owner of the vehicle, if known, is notified within 48 hours of the date of seizure; if the owner does not come forward to collect the vehicle within two months of the date of notification, it may be sold through a local committee, and the sale proceeds are deposited in the public treasury.
According to official data issued by the Central Agency for Public Mobilisation and Statistics (CAPMAS) in Egypt, the total number of licensed vehicles in the country reached about 9.95 million by the end of 2023. The Ministry of Interior periodically carries out a campaign to search for violating or dilapidated cars and takes some measures against them, such as withdrawing licences, or removing dilapidated cars and sending them to the impound lot. According to Ministry of Interior data published in the newspapers last December, for example, 1,184 car licences were withdrawn for failure to install the electronic sticker, and 49 abandoned and dilapidated cars and motorcycles were removed from the streets, and this process is repeated from time to time throughout the year.
A security source, who declined to be named, comments on the impound lot’s open walls, which contribute to the increase in thefts, saying that the matter is extremely costly, and “according to the law, iron walls or mud-brick walls must be built to surround the impound lot completely and protect the contents of the cars, but the authorities cannot bear millions of pounds to build secure walls, so they leave them, and the police secretaries charged with maintaining security in the impound lots bear the burden of the theft of the items in their custody.”
The crisis of the vehicle impound lots is not limited to the material damage suffered by citizens; it reflects a wider failure to provide safe and transparent services, and the question remains: who bears responsibility, and how can the government and society resolve this crisis?
